


The Art of Family

by ImBackBoi



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batman has a very minor cameo in the begining, Cameo Characters, Cannon Divergence, Child hoarding tendencies to make Bruce blanch, Gen, Mama T and her little assassin babies, Mostly Talia centric, Tim Is Cute, editing? Don't make me laugh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-02
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2020-04-06 08:58:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19059415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImBackBoi/pseuds/ImBackBoi
Summary: When she took in Jason, Talia blamed it on her hormones. As an excuse, it was just as feeble when she took in the girl.Alternatively: Talia takes a leaf out of her Beloved's book....ch. 5: Shit hits the fan. Talia has a bad day.





	1. Acquisition

**Author's Note:**

> Most of this was an experiment for me. Talia will seem more OOC the further into the story.
> 
> YOU MIGHT RECOGNIZE the part with Batman in the beginning. That is because last year I had a different account with a very similar but different story. Both have since been deleted because of personal issues. Don't worry, I gave myself permission to re-purpose old ideas.

 

One year, on the anniversary of the death of his parents, Batman parked the batmobile in crime alley and went off to patrol. It was a slow night. Apparently, Gotham's underbelly finally figured out his pattern - a pattern he knew he wouldn't be stopping unless he was dead. He made his way back to the batmobile, anticipating a hot dinner and maybe calling it an early night. Alfred would be pleased. Dick will laugh – or he would if he was ever home. Thoughts of Dick's absence were like lead in his heart. Maybe he should call-?

 

He stopped short. Eyes widening. Batman leapt into the alley and slowly approached the vehicle. What the...?

 

The batmobile sat at an uncomfortable angle, the remaining wheel propped up by a cement block. He circled. Tireless axles bore the entire weight of the batmobile.

 

Alfred was going to _kill_ him.

 

…

 

It was the hormones that made her take Jason in.

 

At least, that's what Talia told herself as she watched the preteen stare out the airplane window. He was skinnier than what she remembered, with more sharp edges than baby fat.

 

His eyes, though. His lovely teal eyes held that special quality that wasn't there before. The spark missing from their last meeting that prevented her from taking him with her then and there despite the potential she had seen. Had she simply taken him after their clash with the untitled... he would have flourished with the All Caste, yes. But he would have hated her.

 

Why it had mattered then, she didn't know. Probably the hormones being produced during her pregnancy with her beloved child. The thought of taking another child from its mother, (even a mother as worthless as his) had struck a chord in her that she had assumed long severed.

 

So, she let him be.

 

Now. Two years later. After collecting him from the streets of Gotham, he was finally in her care. Talia just couldn't come up with a justifiable reason.

 

(Should her Father ask.)

 

“Where are we going?” Jason asked. They were above the Atlantic somewhere.

 

“Germany,” she answered, “Where we will change planes and begin the second half of our flight.”

 

“Why me? Why now?”

 

“Would you have wanted to come if I had taken you before?”

 

Something sad crossed his face.

 

“No.” Jason curled up in his chair, forehead pressed against the window. He continued to stare out, “It's beautiful.”

 

Talia glanced out the window. The early morning sun sparked the ocean. It glittered with a hundred thousand diamonds.

 

“Yes. It is.”

 

...

 

It occurred to her, somewhere over Spain, that she was unconsciously imitating her Beloved. The thought made her fist curl.

 

…

 

“What's going to happen to me?” Jason asked. He'd been oddly quiet for most of the ride. Opting to either sleep or read when he wasn't staring out the window. He'd eaten very little. Picking at the food every now and then. The boy had refused nothing and eating a little bit of everything. But that was it.

 

“What do you mean, child?”

 

“I _mean,”_ Jason sneered, “are you just going to throw me to the sharks? Send me to whoever you learned that fancy punch from? Stick me in a barracks somewhere, our of sight, out of mind?”

 

Oh.

 

“While sending you to the All Caste is an option for later,” Talia stared down at him until he withered slightly, “you will staying with me for the time being. I must decide the best course of action concerning your training and education.”

 

The boy perked up.

 

“The sharks, as you say, will come later.”

 

…

 

A month in, Talia introduced Jason to her beloved son. It went about as well as expected. Damian screamed. Jason cringed.

 

…

 

“You are proceeding remarkably well,” Talia told the boy.

 

Jason perked up a the praise.

 

“You really think so?”

 

“Yes. Your diligence in your studies and dedication to your training do you a great credit.”

 

The child beamed. Talia hoped that someday, Damian might look at her with a similar expression.

 

“Thanks.”

 

They were at her private villa. Two tutors had been procured. An educational tutor from a nearby university (who was slowly grating on her nerves. The man's usefulness was blessedly becoming short lived. Jason was an avid learner. A sponge.

The second was on loan from the league: Bronze Tiger. His loyalties were not wholly dedicated to her Father. Something she had taken advantage of before, and was doing so now.

 

“He's a quick learner,” the assassin told her, “fights dirty. Fights to win. He'll be a force to be reckoned with one day if Shiva doesn't kill him.”

 

“Shiva.”

 

“There's only so much I can teach him, Lady Talia,” the man had looked her square in the eye, “I'm going to give him one hell of a foundation, but there's going to come a time when he needs _more._ Hell, if anyone could get a hold of Dragon...” he shook his head.

 

“Who is Dragon?” Talia hated not knowing things that could be useful to her.

 

Dragon turned out to be Richard Dragon. Only man on the planet capable of defeating Lady Shiva and no one had seen him in years. Something to keep in mind.

 

...

 

Jason's first kill was the university tutor. The tutor himself had a notorious history in the academic world and when his intentions became mistakenly placed upon his own charge... It had taken very little encouraging to do away the trash.

 

(This had, unwittingly, started a trend with Jason's tutors.)

 

Afterwords, Talia had sat with the boy while Bronze Tiger had directed the disposal of the body. And if the boy had leaned into her side and she had gently placed an arm around his shoulders, there had been no witness.

 

…

 

Six months in, Bronze Tiger declared there was nothing more he could teach his young charge at the moment, and recommended a change in subjects. Talia acquiesced. Bronze Tiger went back to his normal duties, sworn to secrecy. New tutors were procured.

 

…

 

The little demon was growing on him. Jason grinned as the toddler flailed his wooden sword.

 

“Excellent, young padawan,” he told the toddler, blocking the uncoordinated attacks, “Your grip is good, but your aim is faulty-ack! Betrayed from behi-ipe!” Talia smacked him again with her own boken.

 

“I'm afraid you left your backside open to attack.”

 

Jason stared, gobsmacked, hand on his bottom. Then Damian smacked him on the shins.

 

Talia laughed.

 

…

 

A year in, Talia finally threw him to the 'sharks'.

 

His last month at her villa, she trained him rigorously in League etiquette and protocol.

 

“What is your purpose?”

 

“To protect and defend. To uphold the leagues ideals,” Jason recited, “and fulfill any and all duties assigned to me to the best of my ability.”

 

“What is your first responsibility?”

 

“Damian.”

 

She presented him with League apparel. Gifted him a sword and knife and a small revolver.

 

“So, am I a ninja now?”

 

Talia tugged his hood up and down over his face. The boy squawked.

 

“Hardly.” A smile he couldn't see tugged at her lips, “But the time has come to increase your training and to do that, I must, as you said once, throw you to the sharks.”

 

Talia prepared the boy as best she could. Advised him on keeping his intelligence hidden. Warned him of the brainwashing that would be taking place, from which the secret of his intellect would keep him partially protected.

 

“Will I be with you?”

 

“I am afraid,” she lightly touched his shoulder, touched despite herself, “that you will not be with me. However, though you may not see me, know that I will see far more of you than you will notice.”

 

The poor boys brow furrowed.

 

“So, you'll be keeping an eye out. Like before.”

 

“Yes. Something like that.” Talia agreed, “However, when not training, you will be with Damian and he will be your first priority. You will shadow and you will learn and when the time comes for him to take his rightful place, you will be there.”

 

“Okay. Okay,” something in him relaxed and Talia remembered what she had read about children, routine, and change. Damian's presence would keep him from getting lost in the vast sea that was the League. In the year he had been with them, the two boys had bonded far better than Talia had hoped, “I'll do my best.”

 

Talia moved her hand to his hair, then cupped his cheek and kissed his forehead.

 

“I know you will.”

 

….

 

When Damian was four, Talia found the girl. She was a slight thing. Dirty. Malnourished. But, she had that spark in her eye. The one Talia had seen in Jason.

 

“What is your name, girl?”

 

The girl stared at her. Much like Jason had stared at the Leagues headquarters. Uncomprehendingly and no small amount of trepidation.

 

Talia pulled a protein bar from her purse and held it out. The girl snatched it, ripped it open, and scarfed it down – five seconds flat. She continued to stare.

 

Talia held out her hand.

 

“Child, should you come with me, I will provide you with food and shelter and safety.” Talia thought of her children- of her child. Damian. Would it not hurt to have another he could depend on as thoroughly as could Jason? Would Jason not enjoy having another child around his age – even if she was mute? Another buffer between her Father and her child?

 

She wouldn't even have to train the girl, as evidenced by the bodies littering the alley. Sirens wailed in the distance.

 

Without a word, the girl stomped foreword and grabbed Talia's hand. She smiled at the girl and stood from her crouch. Together, they left the dirty alley and the broken bodies behind.

 

…

 

It did not take long for Talia to figure out that the girl did not speak at all. Nor did she comprehend spoken words.

 

She did, however, read a great deal of body language.

 

…

 

The girl cleaned up nicely, and really, once her hair was clean and brushed and the dirt scrubbed her her skin, she was a very pretty child. She had large, liquid eyes that slanted and her face brought to the surface long buried memories of her mother.

 

And maybe if Talia had to blink back a few tears at the sudden reminder of her Mother as she looked into the girls face, she doubted the girl was judging her for her weakness.

 

…

 

The girl stopped so suddenly that her hand had jerked out of Talia's and startled the woman. They had been walking down the street of Metropolis, on their way from Talia's hotel to the LexCorp building where Talia planned to complete a full days worth of work in two hours and then spend the rest of the time figuring out A Good Reason (should her Father ask). This time, she doubted blaming it on her hormones (even to herself) would work.

 

Now the girl was planted in front of a shop, face smushed against the glass. Talia berated herself, because she hadn't even given the girl a name and therefore could only call out in vague irritation, “ _child_!”

 

The girl didn't budge, utterly fascinated as she was. Talia sighed and looked in the window. Oh. _Oh._

 

The ladies practicing ballet were graceful. Their form: perfect. Strong feet curved into beautiful arches. The tension in their bodies at odds with the complete serenity of their faces-

 

The girl sighed.

 

“I'm going to call you Cassandra,” Talia stroked the girls hair and smiled when her pretty face looked up at her, eyes shining, “It was the name of my ballet teacher when I was younger. Come, we must accomplish our goals for the day, then, we can dance.”

 

…

 

They danced quite a bit that first month.

 

…

 

A crash woke her out of a deep sleep. A shout. Shattering glass. The hum of something-

 

“Jason!” Talia threw open her bedroom door and hit the lights, “Cease now! Do not hurt her – Cassandra, stop!”

 

“She started it!” Red X shouted, blocking a kick and tossing the girl who twisted in the air like a house cat and sprang back with the ferociousness of a tiger. The children tussled. A couch suffered for it.

 

The next time Jason threw his opponent (she admired his willingness to not hurt Cassandra, but it was obvious that he was reaching the limits of his patience), Talia glided between them and settled into a stance. Cassandra watched her like a hawk, head tilted.

 

“What the hell...?” She ignored the boy and made a gesture at him.

 

“Peace, Jason.”

 

The boy sighed and did not move.

 

Talia danced slowly, exuding serenity.

 

“Be calm, Cassandra,” she extended a hand towards the girl, rotating her wrist, hand palm up. Smiling. Grace incarnate, “Jason is not our enemy. There is no need to fight.”

 

Cassandra scowled one more time at Jason and slowly relaxed her stance. She took Talia's hand, did a little twirl as the woman drew her forward, then planted her feet at Talia's side, crossed her arms, and stared at Jason.

 

“Yeah, whatever,” Jason said, “I'm watching you, too, twinkle-toes.”

 

…

 

Jason handled the appearance of Cassandra fairly well, Talia thought, and it seemed as if Jason could understand the girl at times where Talia couldn't.

 

When questioned, Jason simply said that it was a lot like dealing with Damian.

 

…

 

Sometimes, Talia wondered what her Beloved would think to know that she had essentially taken in two orphan children.

 

…

 

She could not take Cassandra to the League. Call it a hunch. Instinct. Gut feeling. But she _knew_ , that if Cassandra stepped foot in the Leagues mountain sanctuary, she would never see the girl again. Her Father would take the girl for his own uses and she would never see her again.

 

As for herself, hiding the girl would be seen as a betrayal of some sort - but only if she got caught. It was not her fault that Cain could not keep track of the girl. The discovery of Cassandra's true identity had been a small shock.

 

And of course, her Father's loss was her gain.

 

…

 

Talia had moved again, Cassandra in tow. France, this time. They attended the ballet, afterwords, Cassandra imitated every move she could remember. Sometimes, Talia joined her.

 

…

 

Cassandra did not and would not kill, not even at the expense of her own life. The only sound Talia ever heard the girl make was the strangled, gut-wrenching scream clawing its way our her mouth as the man Talia shot slumped to the ground.

 

Then she was gone.

 

Talia looked for Cassandra for a week, utterly bereft at the absence of the girl, before she broke down in her apartment. Afterwords, she cleaned up her face and summoned Jason to her.

 

“She's gone,” Talia told him when he arrived later, “I cannot find her.”

 

“Okay.” The boy, young man now, and almost as tall as her, loosely draped himself over her shoulders and rested his head on her hair, “I'm pretty sure she'll be back, but I'll take a look around.”

 

“Thank you,” the woman said quietly.

 

Jason left and Talia busied herself by making some tea. Roasted green. Sweetened with honey. She sat at the table in her flat and stared into the cup of steaming liquid.

 

The click of the lock and the squeak of the door woke her up. Talia blinked as Jason, dressed in rags of all things (much like when she found him), grinned tiredly at her as he came in through the door, Cassandra trailing behind him, hand in hand. She was dirty and Talia could smell her across the room.

 

Sunlight streamed in the window.

 

Jason pulled Cassandra in, shut the door, then pushed her forward.

 

Talia stood, wanting to reach out to the girl, not wanting to scare her.

 

“She's very sorry she ran away,” the young man was saying, “And she promises not to do it again unless something really bad happens. Right?” He elbowed the girl who scowled at him and elbowed back. He grinned at her, made a gesture towards Talia, and Cassandra pouted.

 

Then Cassandra danced to Talia. She radiated pain and suffering. Loneliness and sadness. When she reached the woman, she had tears in her eyes.

 

Talia knelt and gathered the girl in her arms. Cassandra clung to her.

 

“It's okay. I'm sorry I scared you,” she said, “I wont make you kill, but I refuse let you be killed either.”

 

 _I forgive you,_ she said, _Please, forgive me._

 

 _Always,_ Cassandra squeezed her tighter.

 

…

 

Talia hugged Jason and kissed his forehead. Smiled when Cassandra giggled as he blushed. He shot her a dirty look, to which she stuck out her tongue.

 

They understood each other far too well.

 

“When are you coming home?” he asked, “Damian misses you.”

 

_I miss you._

 

“Soon,” she replied, “Though I may ask you to stay with Cassandra during that time. My Father would take her from me and I will not have it.”

 

“Anything.”

 

…

 

“Mother,” Damian greeted her, “Welcome home.”

 

He had grow again. His head reached her hip.

 

“Thank you, my son,” she settled a hand on his head, “It is good to be back among my family.”

 

The boy blushed. He did not fidget like a normal four year old. Nor did he lisp or stutter.

 

“Where is Jason?”

 

“I have sent him on an errand.” Talia let her hand slip to his back, “Come, my child, I wish to see everything you have accomplished.”

 

…

 

Damian was fluent in four languages, currently working on his fifth. Well versed in Mathmatics. Could read at the 8th grade level. His penmanship was meticulous and impeccable, though his cursive needed a bit of work. His swordsmanship was progressing very well, as was his all his physical training.

 

He was also an excellent artist for one his age, as Talia discovered when she found a small stack of papers carefully hidden in the drawer of her bedroom. Many of them had been crumpled and then flattened. Talia suspected she knew exactly who had rescued the lovely drawings.

 

…

 

“'My daughter.”

 

“Father,” Talia bowed low, “You honor me with your presence. I missed you.”

 

“And I you. Come, walk with me.”

 

They walked through Talia's private garden. A courtyard within the vast compound of the Leagues headquarters. A minute was wasted with meaningless conversation. Of course, it wasn't truly meaningless. Her Father was stalling. Her gut tightened. Through the tension, she remained calm. A ballerina.

 

“I have heard recently,” her Father began, “that you have acquired another child. One would think that motherhood has made you soft-hearted.”

 

She inclined her head and neither confirmed nor denied.

 

“Judging from the precedent, Father, if I have acquired another, should you not think that it, too, is no ordinary child?”

 

Her Father laughed.

 

“Ah, yes, I know my daughter as well as she knows herself. I know she does not collect useless things. Take care, however, that you do not grow too sentimental.” They passed a pomegranate tree, “One never knows when such usefulness will expire. They are, after all, not blood.”

 

She was ice.

 

“Of course, my Father. Your words are wise. Thank you.”

 

…

 

Talia had Damian with her for a month. Father had not stopped their leaving, merely assigned a date for when they should be back.

 

She began instructing Jason in the subtle arts. While she was confident in his ability to be victorious in the immediate, his long term strategies needed work.

 

A doctor was found for Cassandra. An old doctor, ancient, who had commented on the severity of the child’s deficiency, but promised results.

 

…

 

Jason bore the brunt of her irritation upon her return. It was not his fault and he took it with good humor. Talia did not miss the looks between him and Cassandra. It seemed as if the two had come to an understanding during their two weeks together.

 

Nor did she miss Jason's fading black eye. Or Cassandra's split lip.

 

“There was an attack,” Jason shrugged, “Some thugs thought they could rob the place.”

 

 _We took care of it,_ Cassandra danced in place.

 

They fist-bumped.

 

Talia pinched the bridge of her nose.

 

…

 

Damian's first encounter with Cassandra was strange, to say the least. The girl had taken one look at the boy, smiled, scooped him up like a baby and began rubbing her cheek against his hair. Damian squawked and struggled and attempted to stab the girl with his knife.

 

Jason guffawed.

 

…

 

Cassandra stalked the little boy through the villa, pouncing and cuddling when he least expected it. It amused what few servants she retained on the premises.

 

…

 

Their first movie was their last movie. Jason suggested it. Damian had never seen a movie before and neither, after some shimmy-ing and translating, had Cassandra.

 

Jason suggested title after title. Talia nixed them all. She refused any animated feature. Absolutely not. She abhorred Disney, despite the mans legacy of servitude to the League and his company's continued financial support.

 

No. If they were going to watch a movie, they were going to watch something worth watching. Something they would remember. Something beautiful.

 

_Art._

 

…

They watched _La Belle et la Bête._ Jason attempted to tease her about picking a girly movie, but she asked him if he'd rather do a perimeter check instead, and he quieted down.

 

They watched it in the blue room. Jason made snacks. Cassandra and Damian gathered blankets and pillows while Talia pulled up the movie. It was French. Black and white. Talia did not bother with subtitles. The boys knew French and Cassandra couldn't even read.

 

They viewed it in silence.

 

Cassandra gaped in wonderment, chin propped on her palms. Damian stared intently at the screen. Talia suspected the picture moved him as it had her upon her first viewing as a much younger woman. Jason sat on the sofa next to her, and if he leaned into her side during the movie as he had that moment that must have been an eternity ago, it was not witnessed.

…

 

When Damian was five, Jason died.

 

 


	2. Para Bellum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia is the slow knife. The knife in the dark that waits years before striking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long. 
> 
> Bring on some new characters! Yaaaay! Headcannon that Jade, Jason, and the new guy December/BloodMage were probably the Terrible Trio of the league when they all worked together under Bronze Tiger :) Fight me. 
> 
> Yes, the chapter count has changed.

Cassandra took one look at Chesire, burst into tears, and fled the room.

The woman knelt at Talia's feet. Didn't look up. Didn't move. Didn't breath. Simply stared at the stone floor in front of Talia's shoes.

"How?"

Serajevo. A cult. A warehouse. An explosion. Joker. 

Chesire, Blood Mage, Red X - some of the youngest members of the league, often sent out on missions together due to their antagonistic personalities as amusement to those 'in charge', and were (for some unfathomable reason) completely loyal to each other. On any other day, Talia would have suspected Bronze Tiger because of his help in the formation of all three. 

The mission - deceive, distract, destroy. It had been a trap though, but for who? Batman and his newest protege, the young Red Robin, or for Red X and his team?

Talia scowled down at Chesire.

"Where is my son now?"

"December keeps watch."

...

Jason was not truly dead. His body had been quickly found and resuscitated, but he would not be waking up.

 ...

The portal closed behind Chesire and Talia. Jason lay on the bed. He was in one piece, which she was thankful for as it made the future slightly easier. She eased herself onto the edge of the bed, forced her boiling emotions into order, and brushed the hair from her sons forehead. The Red X mask was torn. He was beaten. He was bloody. He looked like he'd gone a round with an exploding warehouse. A tear escaped her. 

"You have a terrible sense of humor, my son," she whispered. Chesire cleared her throat. 

"There is something else, Lady Talia." 

Something else turned out to be Red Robin on the other bed. How had she not noticed?

"I'm keeping him still," Blood Mage said, "Otherwise he tries to get up, which would be bad. Cute though, gotta give him that at least."

"Not as cute as you'll be when Batman gets here..." wheezed the boy. Talia moved to his side.

"Red Robin," the boys glazed eyes fought to focus on her. Pity mixed with rage. What had her beloved done, abandoning the poor boy like this? Half his domino was torn off and the other was peeling. Talia smoothed it down gently, and didn't miss how the child seemed to calm at and even lean into her touch. "Timothy."

He blinked at her, eyes finally focusing on her. 

"Blood Mage," the man shifted to attention, "Can you heal him?"

"Not so much heal as... Encourage. He lost a lot of blood. I've been helping his body to replenish itself and to up the white blood cell count to prevent infection and start healing, but I can only do so much. He needs more help, vitamins and nutrients than what his body already has in store. Which seems to be very little. Also, it's really hard supporting two bodies."

Talia looked at him and raised a brow. 

"Red saved him from the Joker," Blood Mage said bluntly, "and if Red thinks the kid is worth saving, then we'll keep him alive."

Chesire crossed her arms, chin jutting. Talia would have called her petulant. 

"I'm fine," Timothy volunteered, who was definitely petulant. And adorable, too. 

"You most certainly are not," Talia patted his cheek, then pinched his neck, "Sleep."

She rose. 

"Chesire, take Red X back to his room at my quarters, then come back for me. Blood Mage, take Red Robin and follow. Stay with them." 

When Chesire came back, Talia had stripped the room and was wiping it down. 

"We teleported into the room," Chesire answered Talia's questions, "Our former set up has been destroyed. We have not yet informed our handler."

_Is this by your hand, Father?_

"And my Beloved?"

"No one has seen him. We think that Red Robin came here on his own."

"Hmm.." Talia gathered up the dirty and bloody sheets, fists clenched in the fabric, a plan formulating, "Let us depart."

...

Cassandra watched Timothy sleep as his wounds healed. Talia had managed to convey to the girl that the boy needed to sleep, and that she needed to alert Talia or make him sleep if he were to awaken. 

(Talia was incredibly proud of the girls increased understanding, despite the situation.)

Jason's teammates were sent back to the league with their orders and Damian probably knew by now. There was no way to send him a message. He would have to wait.

...

Her sources informed her that the Joker was in Qurac. They had made him their ambassador. 

They also told her that Batman was on the prowl. 

Talia debated calling the man, but as Timothy was not yet able to be moved, there seemed to be no point. She loved him, but he brooded far to much. 

...

Cassandra stopped dancing. 

Talia stroked her head, running her fingers gently through her silk hair. The girl looked up and away from Timothy, who was sleeping again, eyes big and sad. 

"I am very proud of you," Talia told her, trying to communicate as much with her body as her words, "You are very strong and brave and I love you very much."

...

The Joker was on the television, his new status as ambassador was being broadcast to the entire world. 

...

 "When can I go home?" Timothy asked. He had since given up trying to escape (Cassandra got the drop on him every single time.)

"Has my hospitality been so lacking?" Talia asked; Timothy flushed amusingly, "Soon. When you are healed. I have no doubt my Beloved searches for you and takes adequate care of you, but you are distressingly undernourished for one so keen to join him in his crusade."

The boy flushed darker. 

"If you do not take better care of yourself, you will never reach your full potential. Already your growth may be stunted. I know your Father is not a short man, there is no reason why you must be."

"Smaller people are more likely to be underestimated," the boy mumbled, "It's an advantage."

"They are also more likely to be over-powered, especially when one doesn't eat a healthy diet to maintain his secret strengths." Heaven help her, "Were you not already claimed, I'd keep you myself. Cassandra seems especially taken with you since the death of her brother."

The poor boys face was in flames. 

"Timothy."

"Uh," he cleared his throat, "Yeah-I mean, yes?"

"I wish to ask you a favor, in return for my kindness," the boy was instantly wary. She smiled, "It is a very small favor. In return for our goodwill, you will keep everything and everyone you have seen here a secret."

"Why should I do that?"

"Think, Timothy. Why were you brought  _here?_ "

Blue eyes bored into her. He was very much like her Beloved, the woman mused. Intelligent. Clinical. Curious. Cute. 

She waited for the wheels to finish turning in his head. 

"If I agree to this..." he said slowly, "Will you answer some of my questions?"

"With in reason, yes."

"Then I agree."

...

Two weeks later, news that Timothy Jackson Drake, age 12, heir to Jack and Janet Drake, was recovered after a long kidnapping thanks to the Batman. 

Talia scoffed at the news article and hoped that her beloved found her note. 

...

"It is regretful that the boy passed so young. He was an excellent operative for one so young." Ras said over the phone, "Please, daughter, accept my condolences."

"Of course, Father. But perhaps he could have benefited from more training." Talia replied, stroking the hair of her daughter. Cassandra looked up at her, brown eyes large and liquid. "We will have to ensure that higher standards are enforced on all future operatives."

_Did you have my son murdered, Father?_

"There is always breeding to take into account."

"You are correct, as always."

_Have you allied yourself with a madman?_

"Hindsight, my dear. Merely hindsight.

"Indeed. Have you completed your move, Father?" 

_Would you make an enemy out of me?_

"Almost. I will inform you of our new location when the time is right."

Talia's blood chilled. 

"My son trains with you, Father?"

"Of course. As you said earlier, higher standards must be enforced," her fist clenched. "He is my heir, after all. Ah, Ubu has arrived with the car. I must depart. Farewell."

"Farewell."

_Then I will endeavor to be a worthy one._

...

Six months after Jason's explosively stupid attempt at heroics and subsequent slumber, Talia received an affirmative note from Ducra. 

She'd yet to have the chance to speak with Damian. 

...

Her Father would not let her spend time with her son. The Demon's Head constantly cited that he was training and could not be disturbed. 

...

The news replayed the video of the Quraci Consulate in Washington exploding multiple times. 

One of the Talking Heads theorized that this was quite possibly a direct result of Qurac's recent ambassadorial nomination. 

 ...

Damian was six. His birthday had come and gone while he had been in the mountains training under her Father. Cold fury took her breath away every time she thought about it. 

... 

Cassandra was in danger. Rumors had reached Talia that Shiva was looking for her daughter. 

_I will never allow it._  

"Why send me away?" Cassandra asked, "Stay. Fight. Safe with you."

"No. If you stay, they will overwhelm us and I would not be able to mourn the loss of my daughter or see my sons again because I would be dead."

Cassandra scowled. Talia cupped her cheek. 

"I promised that I would not make you kill. However, I will not let you stay and be killed as well. You must go so we can be safe. Ways for contacting each other are being secured as we speak, do not worry." The woman hesitated, "Have you considered what you will you call yourself, since you cannot be Red X?"

The teen pursed her lips. Talia waited. Finding the right words was still hard for her. Cassandra had originally wanted to go by her brothers (admittedly) stolen identity. But the league knew Red X... and so did Nightwing.

"Orphan."

...

It was too quiet with out Cassandra, but with her gone and Jason sleeping in an undisclosed location, Talia now had the freedom to move swiftly.

If Shiva confronted her, Talia would kill her, greatest martial artist or not. 

...

Talia sipped her coffee and watched the flames burn.

Qurac was on fire. There was wailing and screaming. Smoke darkened the skies. 

Thunder; nothing but a speck and quickly growing bigger, a suicide plane headed straight for the capitol building. 

She wondered if the Joker was still alive and figured she would find out soon enough. Surely he would go straight for Gotham, his obsession with the Batman would not allow for anything less. 

...

Luck. 

Pure, stupid luck allowed Talia to be in with him when Jason woke up gasping and choking, flailing as if to fight off an invisible attacker. 

"Son! My son, hush!" she pushed the alert button then dodged a fist, and screamed, " _I require a assistance! He is awake!"_

Nurses came rushing in.

She'd hidden him most obviously in a hospital, under an assumed name. He'd been installed during the dead of night and given the best care an anonymous patient could get. It had confused the hospital, but his bills continued to be paid, so they didn't complain. 

Now she stood on the rooms peripheral, watching strangers handle her son and check his vitals and exclaim things like, " _It's a miracle!"_   and _"That's one damn lucky kid."_

Talia could hear him moaning faintly through the excited chatter. One of the nurses turned to her suddenly, "I think he's calling for you-"

"I'm here," Talia shoved the nurse aside unashamedly to get to Jason, "I am here. Do not fight."

He stared at her through glazed, teal eyes. The boy was crying. Her own tears should have been shameful, but she could not bring herself to care. Talia ran a hand through his hair, murmuring, "Hush, child. I am here. I am here... hush..."

...

"Your sister fights well, does she not?" Talia said, mostly to make small talk, as Jason barely said anything. The Teen Titans, plus Orphan and Robin, were on the television, fighting some multidimensional alien monster thing of some sort. "And it seems Robin has made a full recovery."

Jason smiled vaguely as he ate his jello. 

...

Damian was Seven. 

Her Father allowed them a week. 

The boy was altered in personality and physique. Damian looked more and more like Bruce, despite also inheriting her olive complexion. His eyes remained blue like his Fathers, it was something she had assumed would be, but had worried about the off-chance that genetics would play tricks. 

"Mother," the coldness of his tone cut like sharp glass, "It is good to see you well."

He was cold and aloof. His words cut. 

"Where is Cassandra?"

"Training."

"Good," Damian nodded, "I wish Jason had trained more like I am doing with Grandfather. Then he would still be alive."

This hurt her. 

"Do you think Grandfather would have trained Jason?"

"No," Talia replied, "I do not think he would have. After all, training his heir is far more important."

Damian scoffed.

"Of course, blood _is_ more important." After which he walked away stiff-legged, nose stuck in the air. Talia realized, then, that the boy must still miss the teen who had been a fairly steady presence in his life at the Leagues base, and that his attitude was merely a way to protect that sentiment and rationalize his death. It was a weakness to miss someone death would never give back and her son was not week. 

Her sweet, deadly little boy was still very much a little boy.  Talia would grant him his un-asked boon.

"Will you keep a secret for your Mother, Damian, Child of my Blood?" Talia later held the sword to her sons neck. He had challenged her and she had bested him. "For the woman who bled and suffered to bring you life? Who would die to ensure you live?"

The boy was taken aback. He stared, wide eyed. Never before had she addressed him as such or used such language when speaking to him. Talia pressed the flat of the blade against his cheek. The cold steel shocked him into awareness. 

"Yes, Mother."

"Excellent."

...

There were several Lazarus Pits in the world, rare though they were, and Talia's Father held most of them within his grasp. 

Most of them. 

The cave glowed ominously with sickly green. 

"Hush, Jason," Talia clutched the sobbing, writhing teen to her chest. Lazarus water splashed against them and burbled gently, "Hush, let the madness pass. You are safe. I have you. I am here..."

...

 Talia is the slow knife. The knife in the dark that waits years before striking. 


	3. Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grandfather tells him blood is everything. Mother agrees, but Mother's actions show him that her love does not stop at blood. 
> 
> Damian thinks he might agree. He loves Jason and Cassandra, like Mother does. 
> 
> He's not so sure about Mara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to make the chapter count '?' because I keep losing myself.
> 
> This is a mish-mash of canon. You may recognize things, but don't expect them to have played out like they have before. Also, because I've only seen like, 5 episodes of young justice, haven't watched Teen Titans in years, and am not up to date on comic canon. I PICK AND CHOOSE AND DO WHAT I WANT. At least I'm not making it up completely am-I-right? lol
> 
> (Did anyone else think the Batman: Hush and Batman:TMNT movies sucked balls? Literally. Trash. omg. Lego Batman family matters was way better. THE SUPERMAN MOVIES WERE BETTER! For fucks sake DC, get your shit together.)

"I don't want to."

Jason is now taller than her, though still lean, but she suspects he may grow to be nearly as tall and broad as her Beloved someday. Unlike poor Timothy. Talia frowned at her son, wondering if the boy was alright in her Beloveds care. Maybe she should discreetly check up on him...? 

"This is non-negotiable, my child," Talia told the (almost) pouting teen, "You have a talent. Do you not remember the untitled you helped me dispose of?"

The teen frowned and thought and eventually, "...Yes."

He ran a hand through his hair, the white of his bangs just as unruly as the rest.

"The All-Caste can teach you things that I could never. Ducra can help you control the Lazarus in ways that I cannot." She cupped his cheek, "It will not be forever."

Jason scowled darkly. 

The Lazarus pit had different effects on everyone. One of the ways in which it affected Jason, Talia noticed, was that it made it harder for him to control his emotions. It also, apparently, had turned his memory into Swiss cheese. Not a description she was fond of, but apt.

"I am not abandoning you," she told him, "Do you understand? I want what is best for you and unfortunately, I am not the best one help you right now."

He nodded jerkily, then demanded, "What about the Joker?"

Talia smiled and patted his cheek firmly. 

"Have no fear, Son of my Heart. He is a rat with many holes and I am flushing them out one by one."

Jason stared.

"Son?"

Abruptly, Talia realized that she had never called him her son directly before. Not while he was lucid at least. 

"Yes. I have cared for you. Provided for you. Trained you. Given you life. You are my son." Having this conversation at the foot of the Himalayas was probably not the best idea, "Damian is your brother, as he is also my son. Cassandra is your sister, as she is my daughter. I have cared for her, provided for her, given her new life."

The wind blew. It smelled of snow.

"Oh."

That was it?

" _Oh?_ "

"Yeah," he paused, then grinned vibrantly, "Last one up the mountain is a rotten egg,  _mom."_

...

Parting was bittersweet.

But...

Her Father was on Infinity Island, and so was her younger son.

Really, it was just a short ways south from the Himalayas. It would be remiss of her not to visit, truly. How could she not take this opportunity to see her son? And possibly investigate the scope of her Father's war against her? What better time to do it than under his nose?

...

Cassandra was on the television fighting along side the Teen Titans as Orphan. Talia was thankful for the chance to see her daughter, even though they communicated once a week. Red Robin was not present and she hoped that he was taking care of himself. 

... 

Travel was swift and before two days had fully passed, she was in her rooms on her Father's Island. They faced both east and west, a great indulgence granted to Talia by her father decades ago when she had been a young girl, unwilling to forgo the sunrise for the sunset, or the sunset for the sunrise. There were no windows on the north wall, for only evil swept down from the north, and her Father would risk no harm coming to his daughter. 

Talia considered her rooms. They had been a myriad of colors over the years. Whimsical choices influenced by her girlish youth. Lush, oriental patterns that reminded her of her mother. Subdued, sophisticated colors that changed every so many years. Infinity Island had been her home for so many years that many of her favorite things were locked away in these rooms. There was nothing, however, she couldn't live with out if worse came to worse. 

It was also absurdly dusty. It  _had_ been almost ten years. 

"You may come out," Talia said placidly, sitting at her (now) antique vanity, "I do know you're in here."

 Nothing. 

"There will be more consequences if I must retrieve you."

Seconds passed, "How did you know I was here?" a little girl crawled out from beneath Talia's equally (now) antique bed. She was small, dark, dusty and bore a striking resemblance to her son. 

"The dust on the bed was recently disturbed," Talia inclined her head, "and a print was left upon the floor. Who are you?"

The girl inclined her head arrogantly, "My name is Mara Al Ghul, heir to the Demon, _interloper."_

Talia laughed. 

...

Mara hadn't taken kindly to her laughter, but she'd been easily subdued. 

Strange how her Father had never thought to mention her brother's daughter - his granddaughter - Talia's _niece_ before. 

Had Dusan purposefully left his daughter with their Father? Or had Father orchestrated it for his own purposes?

As a matter of fact, where  _was_ Dusan?

...

Talia had tea with her Father the morning after her arrival.

"Someone attempts to manipulate me, my dear," R'as admitted. It was rare for him to be so openly worried and it surprised her greatly.

"Father?"

He stared into his tea cup. It was old. Older than her, but no where near her Father's age. 

"Have I ever told you the story of the Light?"

"No, Father," which wasn't to say that she hadn't  _heard_ of the Light, but most likely her Father had knowledge that rumors could never hint at.

"It is quite... modern, actually, in it's content, though it is over a thousand years old..."

R'as told her of Marduk and Vandal Savage, Ishtar his daughter, aliens, space wars... Their goals and role in history had varied over the years. Sometimes they'd been in alignment with the Leagues ideals, sometimes they'd fought to save humanity with tooth and bloody nail. 

"And you think they try to manipulate you?"

"Yes," her Father took a sip, "I'm almost certain of it. They want me to join them. It's possible we have a resource that they covet, or simply numbers."

"Interesting."

R'as hmm'd. 

"When they approach me, and they will," he went on, "I must know that my daughter is with me."

"Of course, Father, always."

She didn't really have a choice, did she?

Ubu entered then, bowed, and leaned down to speak quietly to his Master.

Talia had never before had the privilege of seeing her Father turn white as a sheet.

"Father!" the tea cup rattled violently as he set it down. His color abruptly returned in a violent flush, "What ever happened?"

"Ready my transport!" R'as stood, "I leave for Switzerland immediately!"

"Father?" Talia stood, but her Father waved her down. 

"My dear, I must post-pone our plans for a later date. There's been an attack. Farewell."

R'as al Ghul strode purposefully out of the room, closely followed by his lackey. Talia sat back in her seat, focused on the intricate pattern of her Mother's china, and with a concentrated effort, did not smile. 

...

Grandfather tells him blood is everything. Mother agrees, but Mother's actions show him that her love does not stop at blood.

Damian thinks he might agree. He loves Jason and Cassandra, like Mother does.

He's not so sure about Mara.

Damian frowned at his dinner. Picked at his fish. 

Mother had come and gone like a whirlwind. She had left on the heals of Grandfather when he'd seen fit to deal with the aftermath of an attack on a base in Switzerland personally. (An explosion of some sort. Damian hadn't been privy to the pertinent information, but he gathered it was something prodigiously important.) They had had one night together though. It had been very nice, and even thought he could tell she was distracted, Mother made the effort to pay attention to him. They talked about what Grandfather had been teaching him. He had been telling her the advantages of Blood.

Then.  _Then_. 

"Tell me, my son, do you consider Mara to be family?"

_What?_

That ill-bred child?  _Damian_ was the true heir to the Demon. Not... _her._

"She has the al Ghul name, does she not?"

...yes.

"They shared blood, did they not?"

Yes, he'd answered, stunned. Of course they did, Grandfather would never allow someone with out the appropriate heritage to bear his name.

"Then why is she not treated as so?"

Mother had asked him to consider being kinder to his cousin.

Which brought him back to _now_  , his idiotic decision to do as Mother wished because he wanted to make Mother proud, and his invitation to the girl to share dinner with him. 

The children scowled darkly at each other over the dinner table. 

"Is this a trick?" Mara demanded, "Is the food poisoned? I'll have you know, I've been building an immunity to all poisons since birth, and will not go down so easily."

Damian bristled.  _Sure_ she had. 

"TT- had I decided to finally kill you, you would have been dead already and would never known it had happened. I am merely extending you the courtesy of dining with me because we are," he sneered, " _family_. Members of the al Ghul familiy do not dine with  _peasants."_

"Hmph."

...

"Miss you," Cassandra said over phone. "See you soon?"

"I miss you too, my child," Talia replied as she fitted the wig over her hair, and fluffed the ashy brown tendrils. "You may or may not see me, but I shall certainly see you."

Cassandra huffed. Chatted briefly in her own way. It was getting easier and easier to decipher the young womans meaning. Time with the Titans was doing wonders for her.

"Met Bat."

"Did you?" Talia paused, stared at her reflection. 

"Strange man," Cassandra said, "Like me. We speak well."

Because  _of course_ he could. Talia allowed herself the vulgar luxury of rolling her eyes.

"I am glad that you get along."

Cassandra then confirmed that the Batman was not in Gotham at the moment and was not expected to be back at all soon. Talia stood and checked her reflection in the faintly warped mirror. She looked mousy. Weak. 

"My darling, it is time for us to say farewell. I have an appointment to keep."

"Good-bye. Be safe."

"Good-bye."

...

Arkham was easy to get into. Their defenses were a joke. Their security was less than admirable. Their records? Spotty and somewhat informative. She would question the doctors as well. 

"I'm sorry, what are you here for again?"

Talia pitched her voice higher than normal, 

"I told you!" she waved some papers in the guards face, "I'm an insurance investigator. You are, literally, holding my warrant in your hands."

"And you're looking into... the Joker?"

Talia sniffed.

"Yes. I've been contracted by a private company to investigate the man known as the Joker. I'm fairly certain they're going to attempt to classify him as an Act of God so they don't have to lose any more money then they have to."

The guard snorted.  

"Figures."

...

Amazingly, the same cover story worked at the GCPD. She should not have been surprised. Her Beloved protected the people, but his attention and support of the GCPD was suspiciously lax. 

...

When the Joker reared his head again, she'd already left Gotham.

The Gotham headlines were all about the attack on the police commissioner and his daughter. The girl was in the ICU. Her prognosis was not good.  

Where was their savior? Where was their vengeance? How many more parents would loose their children to this madman before he was stopped?

Talia's fists clenched, nails digging into her palms.

How many more orphans would her Beloved allow this monstrosity to create?

How many more parents would have to bury their children?

The woman forced herself to relax and reached for her phone. She would burn the Jokers world to ashes.

...

Gotham was burning and Gotham couldn't bring itself to care. 

"- _I'm surprised something like this hasn't happened before-"_

_"-body of Dr. Harleen Quinzel, infamous criminal known as Harley Quinn and known associate the man called the Joker, was found on site-"_

_"Thank god! Amusement Mile has been a blight ever since the Joker moved in-"_

_"-no word or sightings of the Batman or any -"_

_"-still no word on the whereabouts of the Joker-_

_"-real-estate value expected to collapse in the area."_ Talia paused, finger hovering over the channel button, " _It's a well known fact that the Joker has kept prospective buyers away from the area for over a decade. Perhaps now something good can rise from the ashes-"_

Talia smiled thinly. How fortuitous. She would call her agent immediately. 

...

Luthor was offering her a job. Well, Miranda Tate had applied for a position at his headquarters in Metropolis and the HR department was graciously granting her a three month probation period. 

She wondered how long it would take for him to realize she'd infiltrated his systems.

...

Talia spoke to Damian. Yes, he was still on Infinity Island. Grandfather had left again. Another base had been attacked. Yes, he was attempting to be kind to his cousin. They were eating dinner together now and he'd convinced Grandfather to extend to her the privilege of always being able to eat with them. 

This pleased her, though from his tone of voice, she suspected they fought often. 

...

Purchasing the remains of Amusement Mile right out from beneath Derek Powers, Wayne Industries, Luthor himself, and plenty other heavy-hitters had taken a little bit of doing, but in the end, she'd made the sellers an offer they couldn't refuse. 

...

It was easy to follow the money after getting into Luthor's company as an accountant. The mindless day-to-day paperwork was oddly soothing, while her sleek glasses recorded everything. A little virus here, some flirtation there...

A well placed look of longing, the flattered ego, a little lace - _Oh_ , she was just _so_ impressed with biological scientists, would he please sign this form for her? She had to drive all the way down there to see them. Really, he must be _so_ smart and she didn't really mind. Was he doing really important work in those labs? Was he saving lives-? He was certainly saving her by signing this form!

Resulting in a one-on-one personalized tour of Cadmus Labs, located on the outskirts of Metropolis.

Talia placed a gentle hand on one tank of many clones and tsk'd, “What poor children. They must be excessively cold. I think you should at least warm the waters for them.”

Did Superman know what was right under his nose?

“It's alright,” the scientist said, walking away to check the monitors, “they're not really children, or human. Just clones. A lot of them are just a mish-mash of DNA actually. To treat them as people with or who had families wouldn't be fair, honestly.”

The clone in the tank twitched.

Talia smiled and began to hum the song she'd sang to Damian as a babe, to Cassandra during a nightmare, and to Jason in the throes of Lazarus Madness.

“I'm done,” the scientist called, “Would you like to see a little more? I'm afraid we haven't got much time left. I'm not actually allowed to give tours.”

“Farewell, little one. We shall meet again.” Talia patted the tank gently and turned, “Oh, I would love that! What's your favorite thing? I'm dying to know!”

“Well...”

...

When Damian turned 8, R'as al Ghul joined the Light. 

...

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving right along da~da~da~~
> 
> Not a lot of excitement, but definitely some set-up.


	4. Interlude: Cassandra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orphan joins the Titans. 
> 
> Nightwing doesn't know what to make of the new girl at first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd here we get a glimpse of Dick and Tim's relationship without the mess of Jason's death. It's not that great.

One morning, she was just _there,_ lazing on the living room couch, like she hadn't broken into one of the most secure bases in the US and absolutely belonged nowhere else. Perfectly at home, petting Garfield like she didn't give a damn about a green cat. Judging from her smile, she probably didn't and didn't care that Nightwing was busy boring holes into the back of her head. She had to know he was there. 

“You came!” Red Robin burst into the living room, dodged Nightwing, and stopped just short of the couch. “Did you have a safe trip?”

The masked girl looked up at RR and smiled prettily, “Yes.”

"Red Robin," Nightwing pinched the bridge of his nose, "Who's your friend?"

"Orphan," Red Robin announced, face adopting a familiar stubborn expression. The girl turned her smile on him.

Garfield the cat purred and draped himself over the girl, "Dude, I like her. She's got hands like  _magic."_

Nightwing felt the beginnings of a migraine. 

…

“You can't just bring home random strays, Tim.” Dick rubbed his eyes.

“Why not?” Tim crossed his arms over his chest, “You do it. All the time, actually.”

“Not the point, Tim.” He sighed, “I'm just trying to look for you.”

“Well, stop. You couldn't be bothered before, so I see no reason for you to pretend to care now.” Tim scowled at him, “I have been taking care of myself for a very long time and am completely capable of making my own friends. At least she actually likes me because she wants to, which is more than I can say for some.”

Dick's heart clenched, because he knew the teen wasn't wrong.

…

(their first mission)

There was a clatter and a crack that made everyone in the room wince.

“I'm sorry!” the man sobbed, clutching his hand. No one had seen the last member of the villainous gang sneak up and take aim at Red Robin. Except-

“Bad,” Orphan shook her finger in the villains face. She leaned down, got nose to nose and said darkly, “Fix yourself. Or-” she made a cracking noise. The man flinched and nodded violently. 

“Good.”

…

The big screen was playing the news.

Qurac was on fire.

Orphan watched with relish, a disturbing smile upon her face.

…

Dick suddenly couldn't move, couldn't talk. He looked down and found his feet encased in black and purple; knew that if he could see his face, there would be a black and purple band around his mouth, too. He twisted and glared.

“Leave them alone,” Raven said, her smokey soft. “Training with her is good for him. She doesn't pull her punches, isn't scared she'll break him.”

He could move.

“I'm not scared he'll break.”

“Maybe,” Raven inclined her head, “But what about the others his age? The Sandsmark girl wont even spar with him anymore. Superboy wont spar with _anyone_ since the accident. They're all afraid of themselves and afraid of hurting others.”

“I... Have been a bit wrapped up in myself lately,” Dick admitted quietly. “Maybe some trust exercises need to be done soon.”

Raven smirked.

“They'll hate them.”

On the mats, Orphan threw Red Robin and started dancing around him, doing cartwheels and pirouettes, taunting the boy wonder. Red Robin laughed – the first Dick could remember, _really_ remember, even from before.

Dick smiled. Maybe the girl wasn't so bad.

…

“-and she makes him laugh! He doesn't make her laugh so much, more like weird body giggles and smiles. But she doesn't talk much. Speech impediment, I think.”

“ _Who is she?”_

“She calls herself Orphan,” Nightwing replied, “I don't know who she is or where she comes from. Honestly, if it weren't for Red Robin, I don't think she'd even be here.”

“ _Why do you say that?”_

“They're pretty inseparable. I think he's adopted her. Or she's adopted him.” Dick threw his hands in the air, “They are literally always together. Or in the same room. In the field, she wont work with anyone else, unless Tim is there.”

“ _Hmm._ ”

“I had Raven do a scan on her. She said, and I quote, 'the least malicious person she's ever met' she also said 'precious', which is frightening. Raven doesn't say words like that. Ever. I think BB almost had a stroke.”

“ _Why Tim?”_

“He said they're friends. And c'mon, when has he ever had times to make _that_ kind of friend? In Gotham? You'd know all about her already if that was it. When Joker had him? Doubtful.”

“ _Hmm.”_

Then, “ _I have to go.”_

“Wait- B, hmm? That was your 'I had a thought, it's probably right' hmm. Tell me-”

“ _Have to go, chum. Tell Tim I said hello.”_

“Bruce! _Damn it!”_

…

“No.” Orphan scowled, “Not protector. Not parent. No consent. No fix. Not broken.”

“But you are broken, your body at least.” Nightwing said, “If you let Zatanna work the spell, you'll be able to speak normally.”

“No. Not broken.” Orphan tapped her chest, “Fine.”

Dick sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. (Been doing both of those a lot lately, came the thought.) He really hated to do this, but he'd have to make it an order. It was for her own protection, really. For Tim's protection.

“Nightwing, if she really doesn't want...”

He turned to Zatanna.

“She's a teenager, she doesn't know what she wants. It's for her own good. For Red Robin.” 

Zatanna looked doubtful, then her eyes widened. 

“She's gone.”

“Shit.”

…

Red Robin burst into the room,

“ _What did you do?”_

“What?”

“She's gone!” the teen bellowed, “You're the only one who hates having her here, so, what did you do?”

“I don't _hate_ having her here-”

“Bullshit.” Red Robin snarled, “You can't stand it.”

“She's dangerous. We don't know anything about her.”

“Well, I hate to break it to you _dickhead_ , but there are other people here who are far more dangerous. You're literally living with super people who refuse to work harder to control themselves, aliens with somewhat unpredictable powers, the heiress to hell, and metas who could kill us all on accident.”

Red Robin waved off the disgruntled shouts.

“But they don't. Like you don't kill people, I don't kill people, and Orphan doesn't kill people. Congratulations on being a total _dick.”_

Red Robin turned and stormed back out.

Shit.

…

At Kori's urging, Dick went after the teen later that evening. He knocked on the door.

“Hey, buddy, you in there?” Dick knocked again, “I'd like to talk to you. Uh, face to face, if possible.”

No answer. Dick sighed and thumped his head on the door.

“I'm sorry,” he lied, “I'm sorry she's gone, alright? I was only trying to do what was best for the team. For you. Can I come in? Please?”

Still no answer. A sudden, terrible thought struck him and he tried the door. It swung open.

Tim was gone.

…

When Nightwing caught up with Orphan and Red Robin, they were facing off with none other than Deathstroke the Terminator. 

“You,” Slade laughed, “I thought you hero types didn't work with murderers. I bet you don't even know who she is."

Nightwing scowled. Orphans leather gloves creaked as she clenched them.

“The Demon is looking for you, girl,” the man pulled a sword, “Tick toc, kid, time just ran out."

"No," Orphan's voice was the strongest Nightwing had ever heard it. "Not go back with you."

Red Robin twirled his boe staff and settled into a fighting stance, "I wont let him take you."

"Kid," Deathstroke laughed, "You really don't have a choice. Do you have any idea how much the One Who is All is worth? I'm about to retire."

Deathstroke charged, then immediately flew backwards from the force of several gunshot wounds. He groaned and rolled over; taking off his mask, he spat out blood. 

"Keep your hands to yourself,  _Wilson,"_ said a new, rougher mans voice. Orphan flinched - not much, but enough for Nightwing and Red Robin to notice.

An man a shade over the wrong side of forty walked out of the dark behind the hero's. Automatic at the ready. Deathstroke snarled.

" _Cain_." 

Cain's smile was shark-like, but there was a sheen to his eyes when he looked at Orphan. 

"Run," he said harshly, "and don't look back."

...

 


	5. War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit hits the fan. Talia has a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter today. I'd say roughly two chapters left.  
> Talia still loves Bruce. Fight me. She panics, then gets over it.
> 
> Also, what is my life? Where am I? How could I? *downward spiral into the abyss of hell*

"Uh, Mrs. Orphan's mom," whispered the young voice over the phone "it's RR. Uh-"

"What's happened?" Talia demanded, flinging her blankets off, "where's my daughter?"

The boy sucked in a deep breath, then everything came out in a tidal wave of information. By the time the little Robin's report was finished, she'd cracked the cell phone case. 

"Are you still there?" Timothy whispered. 

"Yes," she could barely hear herself over the roaring in her ears, "I am still here. Thank you for informing me. If you think of anything else, please forward it to me immediately."

"Yes, ma'am. Uh. Bye-"

"Goodbye."

Talia sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window and into the night. 

...

The sun rose. 

Talia couldn't go after Cassandra herself. Disappearing on such short notice would alert her Father. 

Leaving for such an emergency when Miranda Tate had no family, would only make LexCorp suspicious. 

There was no one else she could trust to go after Cassandra. 

...

There was someone else. Two someone's, actually, but Jason was with Ducra, and as much as she loved her eldest and the comfort his presence brought, he needed to finish his training. 

That just left... Bruce. 

...

On the desktop, her phone vibrated next to her keyboard. Checking the message - one voicemail - she excused herself from the office and went to the ladies room. 

_"My name is David Cain,"_ the message began, " _I have information for you."_ Cain left a number at which he could be contacted. She quickly memorized it and deleted the message. 

Talia went back to her desk and stared the screen. 

Her Beloved had yet to contact her and, loathe as she was to admit it, the wait was killing her slowly. She did not appreciate the silent treatment. Did he not realize how much she did for him? Even now, years after the dissolution of their brief marriage? Did he not realize that not even her Father's disapproval could quench her love for him?

Talia breathed in slowly and counted backwards from ten. 

Her Father was having Cassandra hunted by the best of the best. There was obviously a mole in her organization.

Talia needed Bruce's resources to protect her child where her own could not. 

...

Several agonizing hours later, the phone was ringing. 

A glance revealed an unknown number. Perhaps finally her Beloved was reaching out to her. 

"Hello."

_"...Mother?"_

Startled, Talia swept her gaze around the parking garage and kept a steady pace to her car. There was no one, but she could not be sure. 

"Yes?"

_"Are you... May we speak for a few moments?_ " Damian asked hesitantly, _"I require your advice."_

"One second please," she entered the car. Started the engine and turned the radio up _("Mother? Are you alright?_ ") Quickly, she said, "It's not safe. It will take me thirty minutes to reach a safe place to speak. Is this adequate?"

_"I. Possibly? I do not know when I-"_ her sweet, deadly little boy made a noise of frustration, " _May we speak now, please? It is a simple matter and I promise that your replies will not give you away."_

Talia rubbed her temples. If it was so simple, why could he not handle it himself. No. Talia scolded herself, that was not the way to think. He was but a boy, however advanced. And he went through much trouble to call her. She breathed out. Damian was not frivolous like some children. It was important. 

" _Mother_?"

"Quickly, then."

_"I overheard Grandfather speaking._ " Damian said in a rush, _"He want's Cassandra. I could not allow this."_

"What happened?"

_"I placed charges in his private plane."_

"Oh, my son..."

_"Grandfather lives yet, and I was not caught, though I suspect that is only a matter of time."_ What? _"Mother? There's more."_

Dread pooled in Talia's stomach.

_"The Doctor says that age and sickness are setting in too quickly. The magic is wearing off much sooner than expected. Apparently, he requires a new body."_

Talia gasped. No. Absolutely not. 

_"Mother?"_

A knock on her window startled Talia badly. There was a security guard staring down at her. 

"One second," she rolled her window down, "can I help you?"

"Everything alright?"

_"Mother, is everything alright?"_

"I'm fine, thank you. Just a phone call. Don't want be distracted on the road, you know." She giggled. The guard must have thought she sounded every bit as hysterical as Talia thought she did, because he gave her a funny look. 

"Try not to take too much longer. It's not safe to sit in your car like that."

_"Mother! No, wait- Release her this instant-! Mara!"_

"Thank you."

He wandered off. Talia rolled the window up and pressed the phone back to her ear.

"Damian?"

There was only distant shouting, and then the line went dead.

 ...

Talia could not remember driving back to her apartment. 

...

Why would her Beloved not call her back?

...

Things slowly slid into focus.

Talia called Cain. He had information for her. Apparently, she'd already paid the price by teaching Cassandra how to speak. 

He'd never heard her speak before. They were to meet later that night.

Then, she sent an alert to her sons allies - Chesire and Bloodmage. One of them was to reach out to her with in the hour. 

She turned on the recorded news and began to change. She was leaving tonight, LexCorp be-damned (she now assumed the job to be a manipulation of her Fathers. Something to get her out of the way). She prioritize certain orders to Jason's allies and then her own people. 

Cassandra was alone for now. Talia would have to trust in her daughter and her training and instincts. There were secret caches and rooms for just such emergencies. Red Robin was a good boy, he would help her.

Oh, her Father. He'd finally decided to show his his hand. He wanted to take her children from her. To use them for his own ends and his twisted ideals.

No more. 

" _-this just in from Gotham City. Apparently, the Joker is back from beyond the grave."_

_"Now, if you remember, it was assumed the Joker had finally been dealt with permanently several months ago. But, rumor has it, that the Joker's body had never been found."_

_"You're right, Bill. They'd found Harley Quinn and several other corpses, but no Joker."_

_"I guess now we know why. Let's cut to a quick clip from a Gotham City resident. Viewer discretion is advised._ "

Talia watched fuzzy camera zoom in on a man in a purple suit surrounded by carnage. The video focused and auto-focused. The man turned, the person wielding the camera swore, and the frame froze. 

_"As you can see, the Joker seems to be back and better than ever."_

_"God, Karen, don't say it like that."_

_"Sorry, Bill."_

Talia paused and rewound to the clip of the joker. Zoomed in on his face.

She touched the screen lightly over his brilliantly Lazarus green eyes. 

Oh, her Father would _pay_.

But first, she would deal with a madman.

...

One year since Cassandra joined the Titans, six months since Jason went to the All-Caste, four hours since she'd heard Damian fight for his life over the phone, Talia went to war on her Father. 

...

Damian was 8 and a half. 


End file.
